


Beer, a Cigar, and Stars

by Lefaym



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Logan Is Angsting, background Charles/Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5258729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lefaym/pseuds/Lefaym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Logan cuts up some lawn, chats to Marie about philosophy (sort of), and decides that he needs to go find himself a cave for a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beer, a Cigar, and Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heyjupiter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/gifts).



> Happy Secret Mutant, heyjupiter!

It’s during dinner on that first evening that it hits him. Logan’s about to take a bite into his burger (with extra bacon and cheese) when he catches Jean’s eye as Scott draws her in, and he feels that old familiar stab of jealousy softened by gladness that she has someone _good_. And it isn’t like earlier, when it was all a shock to him, everything here in this re-written world. What gets to him is that he expected this; he expected to see Jean and Scott happy and alive tonight, and Marie and Kitty without the years of shadows in their eyes. To some part of him, all of it feels normal already, even though his mind’s eye still sees death and suffering at every turn, and his senses are constantly alert, expecting another Sentinel attack.

For a moment, everything seems to stand still, as though Chuck is playing one of his tricks. And then suddenly Logan can’t breathe, like the air has turned to liquid and he’s drowning again. 

But Logan’s been around long enough to know when it’s just his own mind playing tricks; if there’s a way for mind or body to react to trauma, it’s a pretty sure bet that he’ll have at least a passing familiarity with that reaction. He knows that what he needs now is space. Preferably a mountain clearing a very long way from other people, but failing that, the grounds of Charlie-boy’s far-too-elaborate family estate will do.

He makes it outside before his claws pop, and when they do, he’s finally able to draw a long ragged breath into his burning lungs. Logan sinks to his knees and plunges his claws into the earth.

Logan feels a familiar brush against his mind.

 _Do try not to destroy my lawns,_ says a wry voice inside his head.

“You should try to stay outta my head,” Logan growls.

 _Of course._

The presence in his mind vanishes. And because fair is fair, Logan pulls his claws out of the ground very carefully, and retracts them before he can do any more damage. Deep breaths, he reminds himself.

 _Think peaceful thoughts,_ he remembers Kitty saying. (Peaceful thoughts might actually be possible here, in this re-made world. Eventually. Maybe. For some people, anyway.)

Even though he doesn’t really mean to do the whole peaceful thing, the image of a vast mountain lake appears in his head; he thinks of the cold air on his skin, the scent of conifers in his nose. Damn, how long since he’s let himself… Logan laughs softly. He reckons he probably stopped thinking of that place the day he saw the forests burn; the day the lake turned to fire.

So much for peaceful thoughts.

As the image fades (the glistening lake and the fire alike) Logan becomes aware of footsteps coming closer, pretty quietly. Most people probably wouldn’t hear. He recognises the scent of the girl -- _woman_ he corrects himself -- approaching him.

“Hey, kid,” he says when Marie is just behind him.

“Hey yourself.”

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he tells her.

She laughs. “When did I ever do what you say? Besides, I’m a teacher, I can go wherever I want.”

It seems like wherever she wants right now is next to him. She plonks herself down cross-legged in the grass and reaches into a little bag. 

“Brought you something,” she says, and she hands him a bottle of Labatt blue and a cigar.

“Hmph,” Logan replies, smiling in spite of himself. “I thought this was a school.”

Marie smiles back at him. “I have my ways.”

He opens the beer and downs it in one. “Thanks.”

“So…” she says.

“So?”

“You aren’t quite your normal self today.”

Logan lights up his cigar and inhales deeply. “There’s no such thing as my normal self,” he responds. And really, there isn’t, after the number of times he’s been remade and rewritten.

Marie tilts her head to the side. “My friend Jenny’s writing a philosophy dissertation at Harvard about how there’s no such thing as a normal self or any kind of self for any of us.”

Logan has no idea who Jenny is; something about the way Marie talks about her friend makes him think that she’s no mutant. Because friendships between mutants and plain old regular humans are common now, apparently. It actually works. Mostly.

Marie’s face is still framed by a lock of white hair. Chuck had told him about it, of course; shown him a lot of it, even. Logan knows that in this version of reality, Magneto hadn’t kidnapped her; it hadn’t been as violent as last time. But he’d talked her into almost giving her life for his cause, and that was near as bad in Logan’s book.

Of course, Charles forgave Magneto. He always does.

Logan wonders if Marie has been able to forgive the arsehole. He wonders what she thinks of the fact that Magneto visits the school at least once a month or so, and that the Brotherhood and the X-Men are more-or-less allies these days. (Not so close allies as they had been in the dark times that had been reality until a few days ago, but not so distant either. Charles and Erik… well, they’re the same as ever, more or less.)

He reckons that Marie’s friend Jenny probably hasn’t met Magneto or the Professor, because Erik is definitely in arsehole in every version of reality, and Chuck loves him anyway every time, and if that isn’t proof of some sort of constant self, Logan doesn’t know what is.

“What’s so funny?” Marie asks him.

“Nothing,” says Logan. Really, it isn’t funny. It shouldn’t be. “Everything.”

“You’re weird.” She punches him lightly on the arm, her gloved hand colliding with his skin.

“Yeah,” Logan agrees.

Marie looks at him for a moment with a puzzled expression; it’s not like he can exactly tell her what’s up. Knowing too much can be bad for you sometimes, and Marie would definitely ask if she knew what he’d seen. She seems happy with Bobby, here in this timestream. He doesn’t want to mess that up for her.

Fortunately, she doesn’t ask him anything. She pulls her gaze away from him and lets herself fall backward, so she’s lying on the grass.

“The stars are real pretty out here,” she says quietly.

Logan can’t remember the last time he really let himself look at the stars. Which is silly, because the stars, at least, were something that the Sentinels couldn’t touch. Looking to the stars for hope, that was the sort of thing Charles would do. But here, where it seems like there’s plenty of hope to go around, Logan supposes that looking at the stars isn’t completely futile. He lets himself fall back beside Marie.

“Yeah,” Logan says. “I guess they are.”

Not quite as impressive as they would be out in the wilderness, with no artificial light, but still pretty nice. He thinks, suddenly, that he should take off, spend some time on his own to get his head around things. Hopefully Scott still has a nice bike.

Charles will probably give him a lecture about responsibility at some point, but Logan figures that this version of himself never signed up to teach history, so it’s not like he can really be expected to stick around.

“I’m gonna head back inside before people start asking questions,” Marie says finally after several long comfortable minutes of silence. “I’ll cover for you if you need to stay out here for a bit.”

Logan smiles. “Thanks,” he grunts.

He wonders if she’s figured out his plan, if she’s actually giving him the time he needs to get away. (Once, she wouldn’t have done that, but she’s older now, and probably knows a whole lot more about how people work.)

Logan watches her for a moment as she makes her way back to the mansion, then turns his head back to the stars. _Yeah,_ he thinks. A nice forest, a lake, plenty of stars, and maybe a cave to keep himself dry. (Also, plenty of beer. He can pick that up on the way.) 

He’ll go get his head on straight, and then he’ll come back.

Somehow, he always does.


End file.
